Page 39 of Stout Bear

Her fox was purring and satisfied, its instincts sated. Laney nuzzled against Max’s chest, breathing in his scent. Her fox let out a low, contented growl, its claws flexing against her subconscious. She knew without a doubt that this man was hers—that he’d always been hers.

Max pressed lazy kisses to her temple and shoulder, his arms holding her securely against him. Laney nestled closer. Never had she felt so completely accepted, so thoroughly cherished.

She realized she had crossed a threshold tonight. For the first time, she wasn’t defined by what she lacked or what she couldn’t do. In Max’s eyes and arms, she was whole, desired, and perfect exactly as she was. The revelation brought unexpected tears to her eyes.

Laney pressed a gentle kiss to Max’s chest, directly over his heart, silently promising that whatever came next, she would face it with newfound courage and confidence. They had foundsomething rare and precious in each other, and she intended to treasure it with her whole being.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Chris stood by a fermentation tank,frowning at the beer sample in his glass. “Boss, we’ve got a problem. This new batch smells off,” Chris said.

Alarm bells went off in Max’s head. He’d believed the BioClean system had resolved the contamination. Max took a sample from the same tank, sniffing and swirling cautiously. He grimaced at the strong tang, reminiscent of their initial contamination problems. Jonas and Marisol approached, waiting for his verdict.

A sour, metallic scent wafted from the glass, distinct enough to make Max’s stomach twist. Above them, the overhead lights reflected on the swirling liquid, revealing an unsettling cloudiness.

“This is definitely that same off-flavor,” Max said, his voice tight. “Even worse than before.”

Marisol scanned her notes. “How can this be happening again? Did we miss something with the BioClean filter?”

Max felt furious and worried in equal measure, recalling how the BioClean system was supposed to be their miracle solution. Doubt began to gnaw at him about Flint’s promises and whether he had made a hasty investment.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly scrolling through contacts until he found Laney’s name. He hurried into his office to make the call, wanting privacy and a quiet environment to discuss the crisis. Max paced the floor while the phone rang.

“Laney, it’s Max,” he said when she picked up. “We have another batch of spoiled beer. I really need your help.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Laney steppedinto the main production area with her portable test kit. Max led her to the batch that first showed signs of spoilage, handing her a small sample jar. Laney shook her head after a quick sniff. “This is definitely contaminated.”

“I thought the filter was bulletproof,” Max said, frustration edging his voice. “Flint guaranteed results.”

He wrestled with guilt over his hasty decision. Laney methodically dipped test strips, checked pH, and calibrated her portable spectrometer. Max hovered, arms folded, as she jotted down each result in her notebook. Another staff member handed Laney a fresh sample from a different tank, repeating the process.

“There are traces of the same compound from before, but at even higher levels,” Laney said, frowning.

“Higher levels?” Max muttered. “How is this happening? The BioClean system says it’s working.”

His bear snarled at the threat to their family’s livelihood, fueling a growing desperation. Laney collected her final data, promising to run deeper analysis at her lab. She packed up, telling Max she would contact him once she verified the chemical signatures. Max, feeling cornered, immediately dialed Flint Calder’s number as soon as Laney stepped out.

“Flint, we have another spoilage issue,” Max said tautly. “The system’s not doing its job.”

“Max, my friend, I was about to call you,” Flint replied on the speaker, his voice suave. “We’ve got an upgrade package that can address deeper contamination. A bit pricey, but it’s the real deal.”

“Fine. Whatever it takes,” Max said, swallowing hard.

Chapter

Thirty-Four

A hostess guidedLaney to a free table in the Fate Mountain Diner. She slid into the booth near the window and picked up the menu. In the booth across from her, a man said, “Heard the vet’s been getting frantic calls about sick cows.”

Laney’s heart jumped.

“Ready to order?” the waitress asked, approaching her table.

“Just a Caesar salad, please,” Laney said, not wanting to waste time. She needed to get back to the lab.

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